The Aftermath
by ILoveScarecrow
Summary: Batman Begins The horrible incident that took place in Gotham City left several maniacs roaming the street. One, Dr. Jonathan Crane has certain plans to carry through...
1. Chapter 1

--Hiya guys! I know, I know... It's been forever since I've written anything and it's very unlike anything I've ever written, but what can I say, I was inspired. Batman Begins was an excellent movie, and of course, they left the ending wide open for fics. That, and Cillian Murphy (Dr. Crane/Scarecrow) is gorgeous! Well, I hope you enjoy it! I have a pic to go along with this that will be on my deviantart account. I'll give a link to it in one of my up coming chapters.

Batman, or any of it's characters for that matter, don't belong to me.--

_'Gotham City... what a joke. The world would have been a better place had he finished the job... but of course, that couldn't happen. Ahter the antidote distribution, there won't be any evidence of thier handiwork at all, except for the physical damage they caused. That and all the psychos roaming the streets... and the bat .'_

Jonathan Crane trudged through the down-trodden Narrows, attempting to make his way to the subway as soon as humanly possible. The slums were a good place to hide, if need be, but he was in a hurry. His trek was a rather important one. The rumors were spreading. They always traveled so fast in this dump the called a city. They were all talking: Someone had stolen a case of the antidote.Of course, this was true. A crazed grin crossed Crane's face. Yes, he injected himself with some, and was on his way to hide the remainder

It was almost too easy a feat for him to sneak into the Wayne labratories. Everyone was so busy preparing for the distribution set to take place tomorrow morning. It had been a while since Crane had been home. He'd hoped that the familiarity of it would clear his head. Sure, the antidote had worked, but the toxin was in him for so long that he'd sustained a substantial amount of mental damage. He'd never be stable enough to return to psychiatry again. In fact, it wouldn't be allowed, for he was now a patient at Arkham himself, the very place where he used to have an occupation. An _escaped_ patient.

It was low on his list of worries, however. Out of all the escaped patients, he was the most stable. He figured that gave him an advatage. He finally reached the subway station, deciding to ride on the back platform of the train because his attire still consisted of the ripped straight jacket that was so rudely slapped on him two days ago after that bat sprayed his own toxin at him. The Batman ruined his life, but he had plans for _him_ later. Right now, he just concentrated on holding on to the bar protruding from the platform. The long, flowing part of the straight jacket that had once constricted his legs whipped in the wind as the train continued on. A curious rat creeped out of a hole that lead to the last compartment of the train. It crawled over to Crane, sniffing him curiously. Crane kicked it off, grinning malicously as it fell to the speeding tracks below.

_'The subway is such a disgusting place... so fitting for the city it operates in_.'

As the train came to a halt, Crane waited for it's occupants to leave the station before he moved out. He wanted to make sure any and all plausible witnesses were gone before he made an appearance. When only the station dwellers remained, he quickly took his exit, heading for his home. He quickened his pace, looking behind him to see if his presence had been noticed.

Just as Crane was looking forward to his path, he connected with another solid form, sending him crashing to the stairs below He felt warm blood, trickling from his lower lip. He licked away the blood, only to have more rush up. Bringing himself up upon his elbows, looking forward to see what or who he had collied with. When he identified the person, his eyes widened in slight shock.

-- Well, I hope you enjoyed it. I admit, It's different from my usual works and it's kinda short, but I'm kinda notorious for that. Well, tell me what you thought. Even if you thought it sucked. I will have the next chapter up soon. Thanks for reading, guys! Bye!--


	2. Chapter 2

Okay! So, Im glad a got a couple of readers on my last chapter! This one is a bit longer, though. I really enjoy writing on the topic of Crane, who was my favorite villian in the comics and my favorite character in the movie. I always tend to side with the poor crazy people who get picked on a mistreated as a child... It's a soft spot I have since I was the target of several cruel jokes when I was younger (less now, I'm happy to announce). Anyways, I'll stop blabbing and bring to you, chapter 2!

Disclaimer was in ch. 1

Jonathan Crane... he was a psychiatrist, he was a geneous, he was powerful. Before the accident he had almost everything he could ask for...and now, sitting in front of him, was half of the force that brought all that crashing down. "Miss Dawes..." he said, accusingly. He had half the mind to just strangle her right now and not care who saw. He watched her as her face shot up to identify him.

Rachel had a look of horror on her face, " Crane!" she exclaimed. She studied his features, noticing the burn marks her Tazer gun had left from the day of the incident. Then, her eyes strayed to the straight jacket, making her remember that he was now a dangerous and ecaped mental patient, not just the corrupt psychiatrist she used to know him as. She was trying to think if there was anyway possible of detaining him long enough so that she could get the cops down here. She reached for her Tazer.

Jonathan quickly realized what she intended to to do and stood up quickly, pushing her into the railing on the side of the stairs and getting past her. He ran out into the street and didn't look back as he headed toward his home, still carrying the unmarked case of antidote in his arm.

Rachel carefully pulled herself to her feet, having hit her right ribcage rather violently aganst the railing when Crane shoved her. She held her right side, watching him create a large distance between them as he ran away. She winced as she reached into her pocket, pulling out her cell phone. She dialed in the number she had in mind and put it to her ear, waiting for the other end to pick up. "Hello?" said a rather proper souding voice on the other end. Rachel spared no time to answer the voice, "Hi Alfred, It's Rachel. Listen, I need to talk to Bruce... Please wake him, this is urgent."

Jonathan ran as fast as he could to his apartment. He was sure that wretched woman would be informing the cops of his whereabouts so he needed to be extra quick now. He could not afford to be caught right now, especially by the likes of her. When he finally reached the apartment, he quickly unlocked his door and got in side, slamming and locking it behind him. Leaning against the door, he panted, trying to regain his breath. He brought his hand to his face, running his fingers along tthe burn marks she had given him.They were healing well, but she would pay dearly for ever using the tazer against him.

Cleaning off the blood from his lip proved to be more trouble than it was worth. Alcohol burns, of course, when put into a cut. When finished with a few other menial tasks, like hiding the antidote, taking a quick shower, and changing into a fresh suit, he decided to inspect the injury that woman had inflicted upon his mask. He carefully took it out from the straight jacket, which was now laying on his bed. Two small burn marks were there, clear as day. He found his twine and stitched them up, making the mask look as normal as something like that could look.

Finding an old suitcase in his closet, he set the mask in it and carried it out to his front room. He noticed his glasses sitting on the small black chairside table he had and picked them up. Upon examining, he found the left lens to be broken. He grimaced. _That Crane is dead anyway..._ He tossed them into the suitcase. A sudden notice of a murmuring noise made Crane freeze-up. Was there someone in his apartment? The noise lead him to his kitchen,where he realized it was just the radio, and he proceeded to turn it off, listening to a bit of the story first.

"...Still enough to carry on the distribution as planned. Police still have no leads or clues as to who had stolen the antidote. Investigations will carry on after the scientists are sure we will have enough antidote for everyone who was infected. The distribution is set to begin at nine A.M. at city hall tomorrow morning. The-"

Jonathan shut off the radio, grinning. They'd never catch him. He left no trace, none at all. In his mind, he had nothing to worry about. Nevertheless, he needed to get back to the narrows soon. They wouldn't catch him on charges of stealing the antidote, but he was still due back in his cell at the asylum. He decided to fold up the straight jacket and take it with him, putting it in the case with his mask and glasses. He grabbed the suit case and headed out the door, locking it behind him. Walking towards the subway, he heard police sirens. This made him realize that he needed a plan... what to do next. Then it hit him, he still had some of the fear toxin in his office at Arkham. Yes, that would do nicely. He'd get it back.With a malicious grin still on his lips, he made his way towards the Asylum.

Well, I'd like to know what you thought! I'd like to thank Alexnandru Van Gordon and AaylaSecura for thier reviews, as well! Thanks so much guys and Im glad you like it so far! Well, Im off to start on the next chapter, See y'all soon!


	3. Chapter 3

-- So, I got even more reviews on my last chapter, Thanks sooo much guys, I love ya all! This one's longer because I had more time to write. Sorry bout taking so long to get it up. Oh, and here's the picture I promised ya'll earlier: http/ . Okay, I'll stop yaking now and bring ya the story. Enjoy!

Disclaimer in ch 1--

Arkham Asylum. Jonathan Crane had always been fascinated by the place, down to the very structure of it. It's presense was so menacing. He was always entranced by it's hauntingly beautiful architechture. The beauty was ruined, however, once on stepped into the grimy innards of it. The filth was enough to make even a murderer sick.

_Such a haunting beauty on the outside and so corrupt and filthy on the inside. It seems so dark... so mysterious... so cold, but it's inner foundation is crumbling._

The parking area was rather full today. Police cars and construction vehicles littered the grounds. Crane frowned. This was going to make his mission more difficult. He'd have to have a strict plan to stick to if he wanted to make it through this without ending up with a permanant spot in there. Yet again, his confidence swelled. There was a point when he basically owned this place not but a few days ago. He knew all of it's secrets.

He had no problem getting in through one of it's side entrances, plenty out of the way of any guards and/or police officers. He was feeling extremely good at this point, but tried not to let it go to his head. He knew that if he got too cocky, it'd all fall down and he'd get caught. Still, he couldn't help but grin as he swiftly made his was through the broken-down hallways to his office. Not the fancy one with, "Dr. Jonathan Crane, P.H.D" on the front of the door. That one was strictly for patient and asylum business.No, he needed to get to the one no one else knew about. The one that only he had a key for. He was almost at the office when he heard voices and even worse, footsteps. He quickly stepped into the nearest room, a vacant cell, and hid, leaving the door cracked open. He stood very still, waiting, listening.

A large man in a jumpsuit was being lead down the hallway by a small female cop with light brown hair and was being followed by two more cops, a young man with dark hair and a busty blonde. Crane watched them, carefully posistioned behind the wall so he could remain unseen. However, he froze in horror when the man in the jumpsuit stopped directly in front of the cell where he was hiding. The man scanned the cell with a sort of questioning look, as if he knew Crane was there.

The male cop behind him grimaced and gave him a small shove, "Let's keep it moving, tubby! There's nothin' there, ya moron." he said spitefully, prodding him with his gun. The blonde cop failed to stiffle a small giggle, which Crane guessed she let out on purpose. She looked like the kind of bubble-headed idiot who'd do something like that. The man in the jumpsuit turned away, a mixture of emotional pain and pure resentment in the look on his face. Crane recognized the man as one of his old patients.. West...um.. Anthony. Anthony West. That was his name.He was one of the more sane patients Crane'd had. That was the very reason that he hadn't used his toxin on him. He actually wanted to watch him. He wasn't a thug with a get-out-of-jail-free card from Falcone either. Just seemed like a normal guy. Crane wasn't even sure how he'd got here in the first place.

His train of thought was halted when the male cop began speaking again. "Hey, when we get crazy fatty here in his cell, whaddya say we go to that little club in the narrows? Then maybe to my place." he said suggestively. The blonde let out a high-pitched squeal, "Ooo, I'd love to!" she said, clinging to his arm. The front cop looked disgusted as she unlocked a cell a few doors down from Crane's. Crane curled his upper lip in loathing of the back two cops. People like that were the reason he started developing fear toxin. Even in his nightmares today, he still remembered those idiots in high school, beating the crap out of him, then leaving him there in a heap, covered in straw. They chanted like second-graders. He still heard them, the song playing over and over in his dreams.Those memories haunted him frequently.

Sure, after he'd finished the toxin he'd wanted revenge. He'd gotten it too. Every single one of them. He gave a particularly concentrated dose to thier ring leader. He remembered the headlines of the papers that day. Ah, it was a pleasant revenge. He was jerked away from the memories when he heard a cell door slam. He looked over to see the male cop and the blonde walking past, arm in arm. Crane had a good feeling that they were going to skip the bar and get straight to "my place".

He watched them pass, disgusted. He hoped that they got what they deserved someday, those ignorant morons. The other cop distanced herself from them. By the look on her face, these were the last people on earth that she'd want to be with. Crane sympathized for her. He understood the feeling. She had a different look to her, a sort of quiet beauty that you couldn't find in this city of plastic women. She stood still for a moment and waited for the others to leave, then turned and headed back to West's cell.

-- Okay, so it's still short, but hey. I've been busy lately, but I hope to reply to every single one of your reviews in the next chapter. Anyway, Like I said, I am busy and currently I have to head off to another event of my life. See you all in the reviews (I hope )--


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